A Meeting's Perchance
by Noobycakes
Summary: Kitahl was out exploring the land, having snuck out of the Skytroll village, when she happened upon a lone land troll, watching the stars. She decides to stop and talk with him. What will this mean for her? R&R, marking as complete for now


Kitahl had been flying for hours, keeping low. She had snuck out of the village again. As she flying over a grassy knoll in the night, she saw a lone troll there. Curious, she landed.

"Hello!" She called out.

He turned and looked at her. He was a handsome looking troll, she blushed ever so slightly when she saw that he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Hey," he said. His eyes felt distant to her.

She walked up to him, smiling. "Do you mind if I rest here?"

He shook his head, looking back up at the stars.

Kitahl looked up with him. After a minute of silence, she began humming Moonlight Sonata, swaying slightly. After a couple phrases, she said, "That's my favorite song. Would you care to dance with me?" She held her hand out to him, starting to hum the song again from the beginning.

He smiled, but it felt faked to her. Still, he took her hand and she led them in a slow waltz. Around them, silence encompassed all with only her carried hum to break it.

As they danced, she noticed that he was looking thoughtfully at her, and she cocked her head curiously. "What is it?" She asked, ceasing the song, but keeping the ebbing dance.

"Just…wondering about random things," he said mysteriously.

"Like what?"

"Like what color your clothes are, or the trees in that forest. I'm colorblind after all."

"Oh," Kitahl said, somewhat shocked, but she hid it. "My clothes are purple and green, and the trees are a healthy green."

"Thanks! Erm, the song's over," he said.

Kitahl just smiled at him, continuing the dance. "Not in my head," she said with a playful laugh. He smiled back at her, this time slightly more real, and she noticed the look in his eyes changed. They seemed less…dreary.

"Did you like the song?" Kitahl asked.

He closed his eyes and smiled a bit wider. "I'm not sure…you tell me," he said.

Kitahl laughed. "Of course I did, I picked it out."

"Any others you'd sing for me?"

"Not at the moment, I've still got the sonata stuck in my head, and I don't want it to end," she said, picking up the pace of their waltz. He quickly matched her speed, keeping up.

"The best things in life end too soon, though. Could we really dance forever?" He asked, watching her.

"We could certainly try," Kitahl responded lightly.

He chuckled. "We could, we could. But could the music always hold this magic over us?"

Kitahl closed her eyes, listening to the music playing in her head, letting it move her very soul. "Perhaps."

He stopped dancing, forcing her to come to a halt as well, and grabbed her hands, holding them gently. Kitahl looked into his eyes curiously once more. "We'd take the glory from other beautiful things if we made music like this forever. Moments as breath-taking as these must give way to other ones, as each star must divide the light equally," he said.

Kitahl held his gaze. "Some stars are selfish, and shine brighter than others."

"Are they the selfish ones, dear, or are we for not noticing the dimming shades of the others? The broken are beautiful."

"Are they really broken, or are they just passing on the glory to another, allowing it a turn to shine?"

"Each group of stars wants to shine bright as a whole, if all the stars were as bright as one another, there would be no constellations. There's constant compromise."

Kitahl stood there, thinking about what he just said. "Yes, I would say so."

"Who's to say someday all of us can't become like them, living in a harmony and radiance that preceeds us, living in a brilliance so magnificent, that when we die it will take billions of years for others to forget our light?"

"Because each of us is unique. While each of us may be a star, others may be the darkness of space." Kitahl responded, her mind lingering on troubled memories. She never thought once that everyone could live in harmony, she had seen how deep hatred delves. She knew that it wasn't always explosive and quickly ran its course, that sometimes, it smolders, planning, and waiting.

"Who's to say what we create isn't the darkness itself?"

"Then what would it be?"

"To plaster over the beauty of natural things so our light can shine brighter."

"Wouldn't that make our light seem more tragic by erasing an already present beauty?"

"Not when, for generations to come, it's all they'd ever truly see."

"We'd be hiding their eyes from what had come before us, so would they then follow in our footsteps, and plaster their beauty over ours, erasing us?"

"More or less, yes. It's an endless cycle that's all very tragic. Each generation is inclined to believe what's happening in their now is different and more important than anything that's ever happened before them."

"And thus things change, and yet some things will forever stay the same."

"Will they?"

"Ah! I thought of another song!" Kitahl said suddenly. Her mind was always multitasking, and during their discussion, it had been on music. It always was.

"What song?" He asked.

"A River Flows In You by the human Yiruma. I don't suppose you could play it?"

"I've no talent for the piano, sadly."

"Oh," Kitahl said, really not all that shocked, many people didn't. He nodded his head.

Kitahl pulled her hands from his, humming the flowing, hopeful melody, and began to dance alone for a minute before holding her hand out to him once more. He took it. Kitahl smiled, loving dancing with him. Her humming went on, flowing over the silent grass and listening trees of the nearby forest.

"The song's a bit romantic for two strangers, is it not?" He asked after listening to it for a minute.

"That can be said about many beautiful songs."

"Sometimes for the songs that aren't yet beautiful, too."

Kitahl giggled softly, breaking the tune completely. "Yes, indeed."

"Would you like to hear a song that was converted into such?"

"I would," she said as they halted dancing once more.

He took a deep breath, and began to sing a song, one about two lovers meeting, about how the guy's heart stuttered at his lovers every glance, and how he'd always love her until the day they die. He sung of how the man cherished the small things they did, of an idle chat here, a slight touch of the arm there.

While he sung, Kitahl closed her eyes, letting his music encompass her mind and heart. Quickly, she found the song moving her to its slow beat, only stopping as he finished. She opened her eyes, looking at him more passionately than before.

"That was beautiful," she said.

He nodded slowly. "I can't help but think that every song is a person, and sometimes they're just in a bad mood," he winked at her.

Kitahl laughed. "It makes sense. Every song moves and flows like a person. It has passion and feelings like people, so why not?"

He nodded again in agreement. Kitahl stared at him for a second, a thought randomly popping into her head. "Were you born color blind?"

"Yes…why?"

"I was just curious."

"Oh…I see." He slumped slightly, confusing her. A small twitch wracked his features, and he closed his eyes, trying to offer the comforting smile of someone who's really trying to comfort themselves.

Kitahl picked up on it, and became concerned immediately. "Was it something I said?"

"Of course not." Kitahl didn't believe him for a second, and he noticed. "Really, it's not you," he added.

"Then something I said brought something to memory you didn't want there."

"No, no. It's just…so many people would like to believe morality has two shades."

"They would," Kitahl agreed.

"I'm stuck with the perspective in between those shades, and I can never forget it."

"And that's…bad?"

"When you eat grey food, watch grey TV, look at grey websites, play with grey toys as a child, lived with grey furniture since birth, the last thing you want to do is be locked up with that color inside your head all the time."

"But then you can pick up on beautiful things that others who are blinded by color miss," Kitahl said, ever the optimist.

"Like what? Color intensifies. I see things in a lighter intensity."

"How a trees shadow plays upon the ground, or the slight darkening of an unknown wonder hiding behind a colorful shield."

He thought for a second. "True."

Kitahl smiled at him, but to her dismay, he responded with a scowl. Kitahl's eyebrows wrinkled in slight confusion.

"I…I wear a scowl a lot…to push away people," he admitted.

"Oh."

"I don't like to get hurt."

Kitahl, becoming deadly serious, walked over to him and pushed the corners of his mouth up, mimicking a smile. "Don't be so afraid."

"How can I not? My entire life, the very chains of troll kind has been wrought against me."

Kitahl dropped her hands to her sides, giving him a sad smile. "Didn't you say that even the broken things are beautiful?" Repeating what he had told her.

"It's hard to argue with my own logic."

Kitahl laughed lightly, smiling happily at him. Quickly, she began to hum another song, and started to dance alone again. Behind her, the stranger sat down on the ground, staring up at the sky, and with every spin in her dance, she'd glance at him, wondering what he was thinking.

He indulged her. "People always want to be around me because of something I say or how I look."

"Oh?"

"They create this fantasy of me being the perfect person, and when they get to know me in the slightest, they get very disappointed, even angry sometimes."

"Then they're fools," Kitahl called it like she saw it. "I haven't met a single person yet who's perfect."

"Who has?"

"Perhaps they only wish to run from their own misdeeds by blaming another for theirs."

"Perhaps."

Kitahl finished her song, and walked over to lie beside him, looking up at the stars.

"The only good thing about being color blind, for sure, is that the stars look so much more beautiful," he said.

Kitahl smiled, trying to imagine what he saw, and imagined hundreds of more stars that she couldn't see. "I can only imagine." After a length of silence, she asked, "Do you have a favorite constellation?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

"You have one, I assume?"

Kitahl chuckled. "Yup, Pegasus."

"Nice."

Kitahl nodded her agreement. "I love the sky, the shape of the clouds during the day, the stars by night, flying in the air and feeling the wind rush by." She left out one more thing about the color of sunsets and sunrises, not wanting to touch on his lack of ever being able to behold one.

"I love nature flat out."

"It is wonderful."

"Wounded is a better term for this day and age."

"I live in the mountains, so I rarely see anything disrupting nature," Kitahl said, and began humming a quicker paced song.

"Lucky," he said wistfully.

"Kind of."

"You're not missing anything great, trust me."

Kitahl's mood darkened slightly. "If my village knew that I was down here, I'd get into trouble. I love it down here."

"Where's 'down here'?"

"Not the mountains."

He laughed. "What mountains?"

"I'd love to tell you, but I'd get into far too much trouble. The last thing they want is outsiders finding them and coming in."

"The last thing you'd need to worry about is me allowing nature to be hurt anymore."

Kitahl, who had been looking at him, turned her gaze skyward once more, shaking her head. "That's not even the reason why they seclude themselves."

"Is it for power, or for seclusion's sake itself?"

"They're selfish and loathing, and still bitter about past misdeeds done to our ancestors so long ago by the highbloods."

He nodded. "I'm not exactly your high to mid blood either."

"I'm the second highest blood in the village. Do you hide your blood color?"

"I don't have to; people don't stick around me close enough to even guess."

"I'll stick around, but I'm a horrible guesser."

"It must be pretty bright, because the times I've seen it, it's a smokey red."

"But it's not red?" Kitahl asked, confused.

"I'm guessing it is…I mean, I saw it, didn't I?"

"How can you see the color of your blood?"

"Everyone bleeds, silly."

"But you're color blind."

"It was dark grey with little saturation," he explained.

"Oh, hence the 'smokey' part." He nodded at her deduction. "Red blood then, huh?" She smiled. After another silence, she said, "Oh! What's your name? We've been talking all this time and yet we haven't introduced ourselves."

"Azper," he said.

"Azper, pleased to meet you. I'm Kitahl."

"Nice to meet you," Azper responded, letting the silence sneak in once more. "Kitahl," he said. She looked over at him through the grass. "I moved out of the city a long time ago."

"Where do you live now?"

"A tree."

"Oh? How is that?" Kitahl asked, genuinely curious.

"I made a generator, and I live with just a couple other things that I need. I hunt for food sometimes, when my diet requires meat."

Kitahl thought for a second. "Ingenuity at machinery and hunting…huh? You sound like you should live in my village."

"It'd be interesting to say the least…living with other people again."

Kitahl frowned. "I doubt that they'd let you. I've been the first out of it so many years. They take their seclusion seriously."

"Why wouldn't they let me though?"

"Because you weren't there to begin with," Kitahl sighed and rolled over onto her stomach, picking at a single blade of grass. "Besides, even if I dared bringing you there, you'd have no way of actually reaching the village," she pointed to her mechanical wings for emphasis. She began to hum a dark melody to match her mood.

"Who says nature and I aren't intimate, that the wind won't hold me to higher heights if I asked nicely?"

Kitahl looked over at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. His eyes declared that he was, and she thought about it. "Would you really wish to live there, with them? I'm the odd one out."

"Sure. I mean, why wouldn't I?"

"They wouldn't take to you. They'd probably single you out."

"And I was popular to begin with?"

"You'd have to design your own wings so that you could get around."

"I designed my own hivetop, missy, what's a set of wings?" He had a slight pause in-between missy and the latter half of the sentence.

Kitahl, misunderstanding him, pointed to her wings, shaking them slightly, and saying, "These." Right after the word left her mouth, it dawned on her. "Oh, ha ha." She said, slightly embarrassed.

Azper chuckled quietly. "Well…it's getting pretty late. I think we've reached the conclusion that I'll be moving in."

Kitahl thought intensely on the proposition. She was torn between worry about what would happen to them should she bring him home, and the want to do so. "It's colder up there, so you'd have to dress warm."

"I usually stay shirtless as it is; it's more comfortable that way."

"It may be more comfortable, but you weren't born as a skytroll, so your skin isn't as thick, and there is less atmosphere up there to keep it warm, and that's not counting the constant wind factor."

"I'm used to scars, what's a couple more?" His statement confused her, so he clarified. "The skin dies, disintegrates, and new skin grows back, most of the time as scar tissue. Comfortable attire is worth the cold."

"That would be painful, wouldn't it?" Kitahl asked, concerned.

"Maybe. If things get overbearing, I always have someone to cuddle with, right?" Kitahl blushed fiercely at his question, her face turning aqua, and nodded her head slightly. "Then there ya go."

Kitahl smiled at him, happy to have his company. Of course, she would find him some clothes to wear, she wasn't about to let him suffer more than he needed, especially not like that.

"May I sleep? It's one of the few nights enough peace has befallen me to make it an option." Azper asked suddenly with a yawn.

"Ya, of course!" Kitahl said, jumping up.

"Thanks…good night," he got up.

"Sleep well."

"Sweet dreams."

Kitahl smiled heartedly at him. "You too," and she watched as he walked off to where his house sat, built in a tree. She turned around and took off for her own home, but not before glancing back. She'd return tomorrow, and they'd make the trip back to her place, together.

**A/N: Right, so debating of whether or not turning this into a story rather than a one-shot. This was an actual conversation between the two on Pesterchum, with slight variances to make it roll like a story rather than a chat, but I did pretty good on keeping it nearly the same.**


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